


Paradise

by deansexual



Series: spnaubingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Hatred, Stripper Sam, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansexual/pseuds/deansexual
Summary: Sam’s tired of Dean lying





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [spnaubingo](https://spnaubingo.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr. The square filled is stripper!sam

“Does your wife know about me yet?” Sam asks, using the palm of his hand to push Dean further back into the leather chair.

Dean almost missed what Sam had asked, his eyes glued to the black laced thong that revealed patches of Sam’s pink cock.

“No” He answered, licking his lips as he could feel his insatiable hunger grow with each passing second.

Sam frowned, rolling his eyes as he crawled onto Dean’s lap, his chest only inches away from Dean’s lips. He could feel his hot breath hit his skin, saliva filling his mouth as he wanted nothing more than to devour every inch of Sam’s skin.

He feels stupid for even asking Dean that question as if he really would ever leave a woman like Lisa for a stripper, but he was allowed to dream.

“One day” Dean whispers, placing his lips on Sam’s right nipple, his tongue darting out, tasting the sweat that had already begun to drip from his pores.

Sam placed his arms around Dean’s neck, pulling him into a much more intimate position, angling his face so that his mouth was right next to Dean’s ear, grinding his hips against Dean’s lower stomach.

He could feel heat pool in his lower abdomen just from the feeling of Dean’s hot, wet tongue lick over his nipples. God, he loved that feeling more than anything.

“W-when?” Sam stuttered, his breath tickling Dean’s ear.

If he had a nickel for every time he’d asked Dean that question, he wouldn’t have to work as a stripper anymore.

Dean pulled away, a distant look on his face as his green eyes met with Sam’s, saying the same old answer he’s given Sam everytime he asked that question.

“Sammy, you know I can’t right now, not with all that’s-” Dean’s cut off by Sam’s lips pressing softly against his.

It’s a tactic Dean often used whenever Sam questioned him too much or had gotten pissed by something he’d said.

When Sam had finally pulled away, a lone tear slipped down his cheek, falling onto his bare chest. Before Dean could even attempt to wipe the tear away, he got up from his lap, turning around, and sitting back down.

“Sam-” Dean was cut off once again by Sam rotating his hips so that his hole was directly above his hardon.

Sam reached backward with his right hand, hooking it around Dean’s neck, leaning over to the left so that he is face to face with Dean.

Unlike most of the men who he had given lap dances to or even danced for were never as well kept and attractive as Dean. It might’ve been rude of him to even think so, but a lot of his customers were disgusting in every sense, reeking of more than just lust.

Dean had always worn a black suit with a red tie, his hair gelled down and parted, carrying an aura of sophistication. He didn’t fit in with the rest of the men in the club, never looked like he’d be caught dead in such a place, or with Sam.

“You’re never going to tell her, are you? I’m just going to stay a slutty secret?” Sam asked, keeping his eyes locked on Dean’s.

How long had it been? How long had it been since he first met Dean? How long since Dean had promised to leave his wife for him?

Too damn long.

“You know I want to” Dean whispered, his hands finding their way to Sam’s delicate hips, tugging at the laced underwear he had on.

It’s like a broken record at this point, Sam doesn’t even know why he bothers.

“Sure you do” Sam muttered, turning his face away, removing his arm from around Dean’s neck, and continued with his dance. After all, he was just a stripper, only meant to entertain and please, nothing more or less.

Although this wasn’t the first time Sam had felt betrayed by Dean’s words, this was the first time they had really sunk in, and the painful reality had hit.

Tears that had slowly built up had now started to fall, one by one, staining Sam’s face as they cascaded down his chest. His body had started to shake with each wave of hot tears until he could no longer continue with his dance, his body had finally gone limp against Dean’s.

It hadn’t helped that he could feel Dean’s cock through his pantsuit, his hands still playing with the lace of his underwear.

“Shh baby boy, it’s okay” Dean whispered, placing his lips against the soft skin of Sam’s neck in hopes of distracting him.

Sam’s trying his best to focus on Dean’s mouth pressed against his neck, to only think about pleasing Dean, but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about how disgusting he was.

“I’m just some whore to you” Sam manages to say as it feels like his throat is swelling, his tongue all of a sudden feeling too heavy.

Dean mouths ‘no’ against his neck, placing butterfly kisses all around Sam’s neck, going to his jawline, and finally up to his ear, all the while mouthing ‘no’.

“Well, I am” Sam whispers, closing his eyes tightly to keep from crying even more.

Dean’s right hand slipped under the lace fabric, cupping Sam’s cock.

“You’re not a whore, never were” Dean moaned, grinding against Sam’s ass, gripping his cock at the base, slowly stroking the entire length, stretching the lace out.

Sam winced at how rough and calloused Dean’s hand had been as he hadn’t used lube. Of course, Dean probably knew that the feeling of him touching Sam was enough to get his baby boy wet, providing all the lube they would need.

It’s been a while since Sam had the pleasure of being on the receiving end, usually, he’d be the one to ensure the other was taken care of, having rarely ever cum when he was with Dean.

“D-dean, you don’t have to” Sam whimpered, already feeling himself harden in Dean’s grasp, the tip of his cock leaking with milky-white seed.

Dean softly smiled at the man in his lap, moving his hand further down the shaft of Sam’s cock, coating his fingers with pre-cum, continuing to stroke it slowly as to make sure he covered every inch of his cock.

His fingers tightened every time he went up, his thumb swiping over Sam’s pink head, playing with the slit before gliding back down to the base of his cock, sending Sam’s body into convulsions.

“You’re so pretty baby boy, so fucking pretty” Dean moaned, his legs twitching as to accommodate his hardening cock.

Sam threw his head back, exposing his neck to Dean, who took it as a sign to play his teeth against the soft flesh just above his collarbone.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, his hands instinctively grabbing onto the sides of the chair as the blood rushed to his head.

Sam can feel Dean smirk on his neck, his strokes becoming more frequent with each shaky breath Sam took.

“I-I’m so close” Sam moaned, his nails digging deep into the leather of the chair, his back arching against Dean so that all of his weight was in his lap.

He’s so close to coming, his balls had started to tighten as he was only moments away from sweet release.

“Sammy, not yet” Dean whispered, his hot breath fanning out over Sam’s collarbone.

Before he could contemplate what Dean had meant, he’d gotten his answer as Dean stopped stroking Sam, removing his hand from his underwear, leaving Sam’s cock swelling and full.

“Turn around” Dean ordered, moving his head so that Sam wouldn’t bump into him.

Sam’s body still could not process what Dean had done, or rather, what he was no longer doing. His head had felt light, his cock painfully tight against his lower belly, begging to be touched.

“Dea-”

“-turn around” Dean ordered once more, cutting Sam off.

Without any hesitation, Sam did as he was told, awkwardly turning around in Dean’s lap, making sure as to not put too much of his weight on him.

Before he could lower himself down onto Dean’s lap he had put up his index finger and undid his pants, his own cock popping out from the pants, thick white pre-cum slicking his entire shaft.

“Cum from riding me” Dean ordered, sitting back in the leather chair, his arms laid out on the armrests, a calm and collected look on his face.

Sam nodded, resting his hands on the back of the chair, his arms hanging over Dean’s shoulders, slowly lowering himself down onto Dean. His hole opened up around Dean’s thick cock, taking in every single inch as it was made to do.

Dean’s fingers twitched on the armrests, wanting nothing more than to take a hold of Sam, nails digging deep into the soft flesh of his hips, and ruthlessly fuck him until everyone in that damn building could hear him.

“Fuck me, Sammy,” Dean said, his eyes closing as he could feel Sam’s balls rested above where his own was, the only thing separating them being the suit pants.

Sam lazily nodded, taking a few moments to grind against Dean, getting used to being filled up by such a large cock, before lifting himself up, his hole tightening in the absence of Dean. As he reached the tip, he purposely clenched his hole, another spurt of pre-cum shooting out. 

Sam slammed back down, making sure as to not hurt his balls or Dean’s, enjoying the feeling of his cum filling him up.

“Daddy” The word slipped out from Sam’s mouth, foreign and yet familiar.  
Sam doesn’t stop to think about what he’s said, or even process how Dean would react to it as he continued fucking himself on Dean’s cock, repeating the same process over and over again.

Cum had already started to seep out from his ass, onto his balls as well as Dean’s pants. He had hoped that Dean would wear this pants when he had gone back home, showing his wife just what he’d been up to that night.

Just the thought of ‘sweet Lisa’ finding out her husband is not only cheating on her but with a male stripper was enough to drive him over the edge, his seed shooting up, some landing on his bare chest, the rest landing on Dean’s suit jacket.

“Call me daddy again” Dean mumbled, unable to restrain himself any longer, his hands moving from gripping the armrests to firmly holding onto Sam’s hips.

“Daddy!” Sam called out as slammed back down onto Dean, taking in his whole cock to the hilt.

A few more thrusts later and one last ‘daddy’ from Sam was all it took to have Dean coming until his balls couldn’t give anymore, his whole body going limp.

Sam let his body collapse onto Dean’s, his hands caving in so that they were now by his sides, his neck burrowed against the collar of Dean’s shirt, his nose tilted towards his neck, inhaling Dean’s scent.

In the midst of everything, he’d almost forgotten why any of this had happened in the first place.

Taking a few moments to catch his breath, Sam pulled away from Dean, straddling his lip, looking him in the eyes for what would be the last time that night.

“Am I just going to continue being a mistress?” He asked, his tone cold and serious, a frown tugging at his lips.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a long, deep sigh.

“You know I can’t”

How stupid of him to think that for once Dean would actually choose him.


End file.
